


To Grieve

by HeatherN



Series: What Was Lost [2]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Canon Gay Character, Canon Gay Relationship, Grief/Mourning, Growing Old, Immortal Husbands Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, M/M, Older Characters, Short & Sweet, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:22:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25455382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeatherN/pseuds/HeatherN
Summary: Joe and Nicky go to a funeral.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: What Was Lost [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1843696
Comments: 2
Kudos: 99





	To Grieve

Joe wasn’t entirely sure where they were going, or why. Then he spotted the church; a hearse pulled up to the corner outside. _This_ was why Nicky had insisted they wear suits.

He wrapped his arm around Nicky’s shoulder as they walked in with the crowd. They sat inconspicuously at the back of the crowded church. A large photograph of a man in his 80s stood on an easel at the other end of the nave. Joe did not recognize him. _Why were they here?_

Person after person stood to eulogize this man - his former mentee; his niece; his friend of 50 years. Still Joe did not know who this man was nor why Nicky had brought them to his funeral. Then another man in his 80s slowly made his way to stand beside the photo. This was, he said, his late husband of 60 years. Understanding came over Joe as a memory came to him.

Not long ago, a decade at most, Joe and Nicky had been at a cafe not far from here. These two men had been the only other customers. And now, one had passed.

Joe put his hand on Nicky’s, much as he had done at that cafe. Nicky placed his own hand on Joe’s knee. The comforting presence of a familiar touch. A shared understanding of why they were here.

Standing at the end of the nave, the widower eulogized his husband in halting language. He spoke of meeting in their shared office - becoming fast friends. His husband was a kind, generous man who would give you the shirt off his back and fight anyone who attempted to take it off you. He laughed describing the panic of spotting each other in a gay bar one night. They’d always disagreed about who had approached who first. But what they knew for sure was that from that moment, they were inseparable. They traveled the world. They settled here, in this town. They bickered with the best of them and had really great make-up sex. They joined the community theater and volunteered as poll workers. 

This was no longer just a eulogy for his husband; this was a eulogy for their shared life. And how could it not be? They had functioned as a single unit for so long, the widower wasn’t quite sure how he would continue now that he was on his own.

Nicky inhaled sharply. Joe gently squeezed his hand. Neither Nicky or Joe had ever truly experienced grief like that which they were witnessing here. They had not lost anyone important enough to them for grief like this. But the possibility was there. For a thousand years, that possibility had been there. Not grief, but the anticipation of grief. The knowledge that everything that lives, eventually dies - and there was no assurance that their time would come together.


End file.
